Beyond Repair
by LiaCwningen
Summary: The stars didn't have the right to be so beautiful, not when Kurt was six feet in the ground.


Blaine tries to deal with losing Kurt.

Warnings: Rape, suicide, angst.  
><strong>I do NOT own Glee<strong>.

_Flashbacks are in italics._

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><p>If, a week ago, somebody had told Blaine that he'd soon find himself kneeling beside the grave of his boyfriend and wondering how it came to this, he'd have shaken his head and said "Me and Kurt are going to be together forever - we're going to get married, have two kids...grow old together."<p>

And yet, somebody had tried. He'd ignored the warnings, the beggar woman in the street with her hoarse voice - _"You keep an eye on that pretty boyfriend of yours, they're gonna get 'im, they are!" _

"I'm so sorry..." The man whispered, blinking back tears and gently fingering the letters on the small polished rock - _Kurt Hummel, 1993 - 2011. Beloved._ It was a simple epitaph, and so un-Kurt that Blaine wondered briefly if they'd got it all wrong...that it wasn't _his_ Kurt buried six feet under the flowers and teddy bears and notes in front of him. That it was some other Kurt who had taken his own life just nine days ago. That it was somebody else's boyfriend who'd been so viciously defiled by that neanderthal Karofsky. But, deep in his heart, Blaine knew. Knew that if he'd just listened to that woman, if he'd seen the scars on Kurt's arms, the bruises on his chest, all the weight he'd lost... if he'd just _noticed _and realised what was going on. If he'd just asked, Kurt might still be alive.

_The first time they made love, Blaine saw the pain and fear flicker across Kurt's features as he pushed forward, filling the taller boy completely. "Are you okay, baby?" he whispered, his thumb stroking a single tear from his lovers pale cheek. The boy underneath him nodded, gasped once, and clutched Blaine tight with an urgency that Blaine couldn't resist. "Oh Blaine...I love you..." Kurt whispered, his blue-grey eyes fixed on Blaine's own as he repeated Blaine's name, over and over, and as they held each other afterwards, basking in the afterglow of their first time together, Blaine found himself wondering what he'd done to deserve somebody like Kurt, somebody so damn perfect, so pure. _

"I thought you were so virginal...happy, that I was the only one..." Blaine murmured, feeling wetness on his cheeks and raising a hand to the soft skin there. Tears. He hadn't realised there were any tears left to cry. He knew his words were selfish, that Kurt had wanted so desperately for Blaine to be his first. The note Kurt had left told him everything he'd never known.

**Blaine, **  
><strong>You weren't my first time. Far from it.<strong>

**That day David Karofsky kissed me, he also raped me. In the locker rooms. **  
><strong>He's done it more than once.<strong>

**Blaine, you were my twenty-third time. But my first...real time. If that makes sense - the pills I've taken are starting to mess with my head and I can't think straight. You called me an angel, but angels aren't dirty.**

**You deserve someone pure, a real angel.**

**I love you, Blaine. That's why I'm doing this, that's why by the time you read this I'll probably be dead.**

**- Kurt.**

Blaine sighed, clenching his fist and making the tear stained paper crumple, how dare that...that cretin, that perverted closeted bastard take his Kurt away from him! Blaine bit back a growl and slammed his fist on the grass, next to a bunch of roses that Quinn and Puck had left by the grave. He sighed quietly, his brow furrowing in worry as his fingers traced the petals of the delicate flowers. He did not wonder how long he'd been here. If anyone has noticed he is gone, or if anyone will notice, his parent's wouldn't care - they didn't even come to the funeral, and his father actually seemed relieved that Kurt was out of the picture. _"Maybe you'll find a nice young woman to be with, in the future" he'd said, and it took everything for Blaine not to lash out at the man. _He shuddered in anger, just remembering those evil words.

Sighing, Blaine blinked up at the sky, suddenly aware of how late it had gotten...and the stars, so many of them. He rarely saw them from his house or the school—not this many, at least, and never this bright. Constellations were winking awake as he watched. He twisted around and dropped his eyes, crying harder and hating the stars. He was disgusted to see them now. They didn't have a right to be so fucking beautiful when Kurt was buried six feet under where Blaine was knelt now. He never wanted to see beauty again, knowing that even tonight's full moon couldn't match the brightness that was once Kurt's eyes.

Finally, after what must have been hours, Blaine finally stood. His knees ached but his eyes were dry now as he gazed down at the grave and gently placed the tiny heart shaped box next to the stone there. His heavy winter coat suddenly seemed too constricting and he felt like squirming away, feeling his stomach churn, every inch of him disgusted by what had happened. The beggar woman's words rang in his head again, _"You keep an eye on that pretty boyfriend of yours, they're gonna get 'im, they are!" She babbled, grabbing Blaine's shoulders, "they been gettin' him for ages, tha' man...but 'e ain't gonna hold on for much longer! 'E gonna give up...Give i' a week, Anderson, save 'im!" _

Bile rose in the mans throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut before feeling trickling down his cheeks, he hadn't believed her - assumed she was crazy. Just like the others she'd tried to warn.

He blinked twice, swallowed, opened his eyes, and with one last look at his lovers grave, slowly turned away and walked back through the cemetery, while Elizabeth Hummel's ghost shook her head sadly, wishing she'd tried harder to convince that Anderson boy that her son desperately needed help.

But, she mused, at least Kurt was safe now...besides, hardly anybody took her seriously.

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><p><strong>AN: I haven't written in a while, and this hasn't been BETA'd, so go easy on me? ;D<strong>


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